


Great Expectations

by freiheitfuehlen



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Original Female Character - Freeform, post season one finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:24:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freiheitfuehlen/pseuds/freiheitfuehlen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have done this before, just not for this particular fandom. I created a new character in order to explore the current relationships further. Sounds weird, I know, but it did prove to be quite effective.  This story is set after the season 1 finale. More summary? This line should sum it up quite perfectly:</p><p>“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”<br/>-Charles Dickens</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress. I should be able to update regularly, so don't be discouraged to follow me.

 

 

 

“ _I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”_

_-Charles Dickens_

 

 

The rain was falling down on their heads, Miles closed his eyes and mouth. He knew they were safe, far away from the nuclear catastrophe, but he remembered Chernobyl. Miles remembered faces, skin so burnt by acid rain that you could see the people's flesh on his TV screen far away in the safety of the United States. He laughed bitterly to himself, thinking about the United States of America. The country he had fought for, served honorably and prepared to die for. It seemed that it was this exact country and its government who were responsible for their own American Chernobyl. 

 

Miles had thought it would be impossible to feel such shame and disappointment again in anyone but himself. He had been wrong.

 

“Miles!”

 

He opened his eyes and looked at Charlie who was angrily staring at him, forcing him to answer questions Miles was not sure she would want to know the answers to. Life had been different then, no better or worse, just different. Miles did not realize he was talking out loud until he heard Charlie's voice again. His ears rang from her apparent, omnipresent self-righteousness. He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts before turning around to look Charlie straight in the eye.

 

“Stop it, Charlotte! You don't know what it was like to live then, so you have no right to judge--”

 

“And whose fault is that?” Her eyes daring him, provoking, searching for any kind of reaction.

 

“No one's. Certainly not your Mom's. She worked for the government. She believed in the government. We believed in the government. The day the Twin Towers fell, life changed. We changed. I---”

 

“What has that got to do with _her?”_ Charlie spat at a tall, blonde woman in her early twenties. 

 

“Just....everything.” Miles said and sighed deeply. He brought his hand up to the top of his head to comb through his twisted strands of brown hair. 

 

“I can do the math, Miles! Unless my mother gave birth to a toddler on 9/11 your 'everything' is bullshit.” Charlie yelled at him, pointing her index finger at his face before turning around to walk away angrily and hurt.

  
Miles closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to choose his words wisely. I love your Mom, he thought. I have loved her for a long time but I don't deserve her love or forgiveness. Mostly he wanted to scream from the top of his lungs that he was not the good guy Charlie thought he was and that she should stop giving her mother grief about abandoning them. When he opened his eyes, though, and looked at her all he could see was Rachel in Charlie's eyes, in her smile and in the way she held herself with dignity and pride. He sighed.

 

“I loved her first.” Miles whispered into wind blowing against their faces.

 

Miles closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose hard before turning around to punch the wall beside him. He wanted to feel, needed the pain to cover up all of the emotions he had kept in for most of his adult life. He had loved her once, been in love with her once. Once, Miles laughed bitterly and chided himself for believing he had ever stopped loving her at all. Rachel. Everything he had always done, had always been, it all came down to how much he loved Rachel.

 

–  


“ _Miles.” Her voice was hoarse, her throat was aching from the tears she had swallowed since she had found out._

 

“ _Hey Rach.” Miles was happy, grinning broadly at her. He was about to be shipped off to Europe and then head wherever the heck he was supposed to serve. He was not particularly happy about that, but he was glad Rachel had decided to stop by again before his departure. They had had a weird conversation two days ago, neither of them was certain where this relationship was supposed to go from here or if it was meant to last at all._

 

“ _I need to talk to you.” Rachel had tears in her eyes and she started to feel cold from the fear inside of her – the omnipresent confusion and the guilt, mostly the guilt she felt._

 

“ _Okay.” Miles said quietly, the grin slipped off of his lips like a cone of ice cream on a hot summer day. Famous last words, he thought before he opened the door to let her step inside._

 

_Rachel paced back and force silently. Miles just sat on the couch watching her, afraid to speak, to hear, to comprehend. Rachel kept on walking from the kitchen counter to the mantle piece and back in a slow, steady rhythm she placed on foot in front of the other, afraid to lose herself. She laughed bitterly at that particular analogy which in turn made Miles look up at her curiously._

 

“ _Rache--”_

 

“ _I'm pregnant.” Rachel said without looking at him._

 

“ _What?” Miles could not hear, speak, think clearly._

 

“ _I'm pregnant.” Rachel said, turned to him and hold up her hand to silence anymore questions he might have. “I'm too far a long to....but I can't, we can't...do this. I'm going to have the baby before I go back to college. I am, we are going to give it up for adoption.” Rachel looked over at Miles, sadness in her eyes and a lump in her throat. “I can't, we can't, we won't be able to...it's the right thing to do. I need you to be okay with this.”_

 

_Miles just looked at her blankly, at a loss for words. What was there to say, to do when everything was already out there leaving no room for anything else, least of all halfhearted apologies._

 

“ _I'm okay with this.” Miles said, stood up and hugged her tightly to his chest._

 

_They were kids themselves, too young to be able to care for another human being properly. Despite everything anyone might say, right then they were the least self-centered people in the universe. It was never easy again afterward. Everywhere they went, whoever they dated, they never ever forgot about the baby they had to give away._

 

– _  
_

The sun was beginning over the horizon as Miles sat on the back porch of Rachel's childhood home. The storm had long passed them by, the clothes had dried off and tempers had calmed down. 

 

Miles stared off into the distance, trying to clear his head, when someone took a seat beside him.

 

He saw a familiar wave of blonde hair from the corner of his eyes, but the scent did not match the one he had memorized, treasured, safely stored away in the back of his mind.

 

He looked up and to his right side. 

 

Laura smiled at him cheekily before she turned around to grab a bottle she must have brought outside with her, Miles thought, when he heard the familiar sound of glass against wood. 

 

She looked at it closely, let her thumb run tenderly over the label of the bottle. She turned to Miles slightly pressing it into his hand.

 

Miles took it from her hand in his and studied the bottle closely.

 

“Glenmoragie.” Miles sighed, aching for the taste of this amber oblivion. “Where did you get it?”

 

Laura closed her eyes briefly and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “My Dad gave it to me. We used to sit outside on our porch every evening. On bad days, he came out with his favorite scotch and a cigar.” Laura paused to pull out a cigar and matches she had carried outside in her jeans pocket. “We sat there and talked, sometimes I played the guitar for him. His favorite songs and we both sang along. He used to say 'this is what happiness taste like, kiddo'. He didn't let me drink until I was sixteen. My Mom had just tried to take her life, so my Dad grabbed the bottle and two cigars and we sat on the porch all night until the sun rose in the morning. I didn't understand what he meant by happiness because to me it always tasted like safety.”

 

Laura nudged his shoulder with hers and leaned forward to light the cigar. She took a drag from it and closed her eyes. When she breathed out the, the smoke filled the space in front of her and the distinctive scent of tobacco filled the air around them.

 

“Open it, Miles. We are in need of some safety and happiness.”

 

Miles smiled despite the situation, despite the sadness of the story he had just heard. Miles smiled despite it all because he was sitting next to the daughter he thought he would never get to meet. 

 

He took a sip from the bottle of scotch in his hands, closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. She was right, it did taste like safety.

 

To be continued. 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“ _Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.”_

  * _Charles Dickens_




 

“Why are you so angry,” Laura paused, letting her soft words hang in the space between herself and her sister. “All the time?”

 

Charlie sighed bitterly and thought to herself how could she not be, how was there any other way than to be angry when she had experienced so much heartache in the last fifteen years of her life. She kept quiet for a moment longer, breathing softly and rhythmically to the beating of her own heart.

 

“Why are you not?” Charlie asked sincerely, holding her sister's gaze for the first time since Charlie had found out.

 

Laura just shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head lightly before speaking softly but with determination in her voice. “What am I supposed to be angry about? That I was given up for adoption? I can do the math. They were kids. A soldier and a co-ed. Despite everything that my life turned out to be, I had a good life. I don't blame anyone because it is not nor will it ever be my place to do so. Do you remember what it was like before the black-out? Life then, it wasn't better, it was just different. Different people were in charge, a different kind of injustice ruled the world and people were burdened with different expectations. Life wasn't better or worse then, it was just different. So how am I supposed to place blame? How am I supposed to be angry? I can't and I won't be.”

 

Charlie was quiet, looking ahead into the distance, the wide open spaces of the Mid West.

 

And then Laura moved closer, nudged her shoulder against Charlie's and smiled slyly. “You aren't like me, Charlie. I'm a dreamer. Probably listened to John Lennon one to many times.” Laura laughed out loud.

 

“Who's John Lennon?” Charlie asked curiously.

 

Laura raised one of her eyebrows for a short moment of pure astonishment. Then she nodded and replied. “A British musician. If you want to I'll play one of his songs for you later. So, I'm a dreamer, but you,...you're a soldier. I don't know if you were born that way or if life made you hard and unforgiving. I think, though, you need to let some of this anger go. Right now it helps you to be ruthless when you need to be, I get that. Right now, you still got this little girl inside of you that is hopeful and happy, but years from now it won't be there if you keep going like this and you'll be too far gone over the line. You'll become one of the people you vowed to go up against.”

 

“How do you let go?” Charlie said, barely above a whisper.

 

“You forgive.”

 

Charlie snorted, but asked anyway. “How do you forgive betrayal?” 

 

“You accept that it is not your place to judge somebody else's decisions.”

 

Laura said and leaned her head against the tree behind her. She closed her eyes and hummed the melody to Johnny Cash's song Hurt.

 

–  


_It was Aaron who found her and the irony was that Aaron had no idea who he was looking at, who he was looking for. Aaron found her without realizing how magnificent his discovery would turn out to be._

 

_They had failed to turn the power back off. Aaron had failed to stop the inevitable nuclear attack on Atlanta and Philadelphia. The group had made their way to Denver on an excruciating path of blame and guilt. Aaron had needed a drink, badly. That was how he found her._

 

_He walked into this shady looking bar on Meade St, next to Hallack Park. He ordered himself a drink, anything strong he had told the bartender. He sat down on a bar stool when a girl started singing and playing the guitar. Aaron had not heard music in a long time and this girl was singing the classics, Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, The Beatles. It had almost felt like normalcy, Aaron would much later say. He took a sip from his drink, closed his eyes and listened to the girl perform Imagine by John Lennon. Her voice was beautiful, he noticed; firm, clear and full of emotions. When he opened his eyes and turned around, all he saw was Rachel._

 

_The girl, singing with such enthusiasm, looked to be in her early twenties. She had long blonde hair and those piercing blue eyes of Rachel. She was about 5'8, skinny but not petite. She had pale skin and a smile like Rachel's._

 

_Aaron smiled broadly as he looked at her and he let himself get carried away by the passion this young, beautiful woman performed one of the greatest songs that had ever been recorded._

 

_When the song ended, Aaron took his drink and walked over to her. A bunch of men had done the same and gathered around the blonde. As Aaron got closer he could see that she was uncomfortable with the closeness of some of the men. She tried to distance herself by stepping back but one of the men did not take the hint. He walked even closer to her, grabbing her arm. The girl tried to free her arm from the tight grip the man was having it in, but she failed._

 

_Aaron had never been the most courageous man to walk the face of the earth, but right then he felt like he could be. He stepped forward and in between the man and the woman, making it hard for the man to hold onto the girl's arm. As soon as the man let go of her arm, the girl grabbed her guitar and backpack and made a beeline for the door. Aaron followed her outside._

 

_When he stepped over the threshold, he was pushed back against the open door._

 

“ _What do you want?” The girl asked angrily, with her hands firmly pressed against Aaron's chest, holding him captive against the wooden door._

 

“ _Eh, I just wanted to see if you were okay.” Aaron replied, surprised by her unfriendly demeanor. “They came onto you pretty strongly, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”_

 

_The girl took a step back, eyeing him suspiciously._

 

“ _I'm okay. Nothing I haven't dealt with before.” The girl said straightening the hemline of her shirt. “Fuck, man. I was supposed to crash here tonight. Those fucking dickheads!”_

 

_The girl said and turned around to put her backpack back on with one hand while the other one gripped her guitar firmly._

 

“ _You could come with me. I'm with a group of people, staying in an abandoned warehouse a couple of blocks from here.” Aaron offered._

 

_The girl laughed wholeheartedly before replying to his offer. “And here I thought I had already exceeded my jackass quota for the day.” She snorted and turned around to leave._

 

“ _No, I mean I'm staying with friends. Well, a family actually, of sorts. We're heading East, at least I think we are. You could crash with us for the night, at least you'll be safe then.”_

 

_The girl turned around to look over her shoulder. “What makes you think I won't be safe on my own?”_

 

“ _Nothing. I mean that's not what I think.” Aaron replied with apparent unease._

 

“ _Alright then, take care!” The girl started to walk away._

 

“ _Don't leave, please. I haven't heard someone sing like you do in a long time and I really wish you would come with me and sing some more, because I've had a fucked up couple of weeks and I could really use something – anything, to keep from giving up.”_

 

_The girl looked curiously at Aaron and raised one of her eyebrows. She shrugged her shoulders and turned around to walk towards Aaron. “Where are you guys headed anyway?”_

 

_Aaron smirked and replied, “Any road. It's anywhere road for anybody anyhow.”_

 

“ _Jack Kerouac?” The girl asked._

 

“ _The one and only.” Aaron smiled broadly at her as they started to walk away – together._

 

_Aaron found her, but whenever he was asked about it he just shook his head lightly, telling to whoever was listening that you could not find someone who was not lost in the first place._

 

–  


To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

_Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts._

_-Charles Dickens, Great Expectations_

 

Oddly enough, Laura did not remember much about being shot. She remembered the noise because it made her run outside. She remembered stepping onto the porch and taking the few steps quickly to get to the front of the house. 

 

She remembered falling. She remembered that it seemed to last forever until her head hit the ground with mighty force, or so it felt to her. Laura remembered screams and blood. Screams and blood. More screams and more blood.

 

She thought about her dad right then, the surgeon who had tried to teach her as much as had time for after the blackout. She tried to remember what he had taught her about the peritoneum and were the vital organs were located. 

 

“Laura! Laura! Stay with me!” Rachel yelled anxiously at her daughter, slapping her face to keep her conscious. 

 

“Abdominal aorta,” Laura breathed out heavily, without realizing she was talking out loud she tried to remember her dad's words. “Bowel...sepsis...bleed...”

 

“Stay with me, Laura! Come on, STAY WITH ME!” Rachel screamed and pressed both of her hands against the bleeding hole in the side of her daughter's stomach.

 

Laura blinked, trying hard to focus on Rachel. She blinked again. All Laura saw then was blond hair bent over her own body.

 

“Mommy?” Laura whispered, feeling incredibly tired.

 

“Yes, Laura. Mommy's here. Stay with Mommy, okay.”

 

“Mommy.” Laura whispered almost inaudibly before she closed her eyes.

 

Laura did not think she would wake up again. It was time to go home, she thought.

 

– _  
_

_It might have been Aaron who had found her, but it was Rachel who realized who exactly Laura was._

 

“ _You can't just bring her here, Aaron.” Charlie said disbelievingly. “What if she's Militia?”_

 

_Aaron raised one of his eyebrows, Miles nodded his head in agreement. Laura just laughed out loud._

 

_Three heads turned to look at her curiously, demanding silently to know what exactly was so funny about that statement._

 

“ _Pardon me.” Laura said, trying hard to keep a straight face. “I'm a girl with a guitar from Rockport, Massachusetts. I play songs, not war. So pardon me if I find the idea of me being Militia hilarious.”_

 

_Charlie was turning her head in annoyance, Miles was visibly intrigued. Aaron just smiled proudly. That's when Rachel walked in unbeknownst to everybody else._

 

“ _I did live in Brooklyn for the first 5 years of my life. I was a real nightmare on the playground, let me tell you.” Laura joked and smiled brightly at the two men who were staring at her incredulously._

 

“ _And you are?” Laura heard a female voice saying from behind her. She turned around and came face to face with a tall, slender blonde with a no-bullshit expression on her face._

 

“ _Laura Reinhardt,” Laura answered politely._

 

_Rachel studied her carefully, getting the feeling that something weird was happening. She let her eyes wander over the face of the young woman, down her neck to her clavicle and that was when she saw it. The birthmark, shaped like Italy. She stared at it, feeling dizzy from the magnitude of this discovery and the arrival of the moment she never thought she would live to see. Rachel stepped closer, bringing her right hand to the spot on Laura's clavicle where the – her daughter's birthmark she corrected herself, was._

 

_Rachel looked up and into the eyes of her daughter. When she saw a lone tear running down her daughter's cheek, she leaned in closer and kissed it away. Rachel hugged Laura tightly to her chest, placing on of her hands on the back of her neck._

 

_Laura cried cried against the crook of Rachel's neck._

 

“ _I love you. God, I love you so much.” Rachel whispered against the side of her daughter's head._

 

_Charlie and Aaron looked at each other and back at Rachel and Laura, wondering what the hell was going on. Miles just stared blankly at the two woman hugging each other, he knew and Miles did not know what to do, to say, to think._

 

_Tbc._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you feel like puking from the overly romantic reunion I'd say that's fair, but be adviced to treasure the happy moments because shit is going to hit the fan!


	4. Chapter 4

“ _The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after day after terrible day.”_

_-Charles Dickens, Great Expectations_

Her head hurt. It felt like someone was poking at it with a sharp object over and over again. She tried to open her eyes, but she could not. Her eyelids felt too heavy, too painful to open them even an inch. Someone was calling out for her, but she could not turn her head, could not open her eyes. Someone called Laura over and over again. Laura was tired. 

 

 

“ _Get up,” Laura yelled angrily. “Get the fuck up!”_

 

“ _Laura.” Miles reprimanded her with fierceness in his voice and a stern look in his eyes. “Leave her be.”_

 

_Laura snorted before shaking her head in disbelief. She turned to face her father, straightened her shoulders and stared at him, holding his gaze without blinking._

 

“ _This.” Laura said nodding her head in the direction of the bed her mother was lying on, staring blankly ahead. “Is unacceptable. You better get her to fucking stop wallowing in self-pity before I lose myself.”_

 

 

 

“Laura,” someone called out to her softly. She knew that voice, but she could not remember who it belonged to. The voice got louder and louder, someone was shouting, she thought. Stop, she wanted to tell them, but her voice failed her. The pounding in her head increased, but at the same time she felt a pleasant warmth in her belly. Maybe I should sleep a little, she thought.

 

_Laura turned on her heels and started walking away when her father words halted her movements, “Show some respect and compassion, will you.”_

 

_Laura laughed out bitterly,her mind still set on walking away she turned around instead almost mechanically._

 

 

 

“ _I get it.” Laura began, nodding her head in understanding. “I get the guilt. I do, Miles. I feel it, too. I've killed more people than I am comfortable with admitting out loud. I broke a promise...more than one, actually. I get the guilt, but this is a war. We're losing it and we got to figure out a way to turn it all around. We need her to help us, we need her brain to figure this out. I'm not giving up. I'm gonna win this or die trying. If that's not what you're after then I gotta go.”_

 

 

 

“Laura, baby. Stay with me.” The voice pleaded. Laura sighed. She remembered who was talking to her. 

 

“Mommy,” she whispered weakly. “Mommy.” 

 

I'm coming home, she thought, before her whole world went black. 

 

 

 

_A single tear ran down her cheek, Laura swallowed the uprising disappointment and turned to walk away when her father's hand grabbed Laura's forearm. Miles pressed her tightly against his chest, bringing his right arm around her shoulders to hold her steady against his beating heart._

 

_Laura tried to remember what her dad used to smell like. It was some sort of expensive cologne, but she could not remember exactly what it was. Her father, though, he smelled like sweat and dirt. He smelled like war. Her dad was a doctor, her father was a soldier. Sweat and dirt and death, she thought as she closed her eyes against the fabric of Miles' shirt._

 

“ _Don't leave.” Miles said, barely above her whisper and against the crown of her head._

 

“ _You have to try harder to get her back.” Laura murmured softly against his chest._

 

_Rachel did not join them for dinner. She was taking a bath, Miles had said. Laura had nodded and forced herself to believe it was true._

 

_The next morning Rachel got up before sunrise and Laura woke up to her mother sitting beside her on the floor of her grandfather's living room. Rachel smiled lightly and Laura exhaled a breath she had not realized she'd been holding in._

 

 

 

Laura woke up to the image of a pair of blues eyes, staring at her hopefully, full of worry and yet so relieved it broke Laura's heart.

 

She looked into a pair blue eyes, but those did not belong to her _mommy_.

 

tbc.


End file.
